


there’s no need to rush

by straysncts



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: A Different Version, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, but like, but the characters arent the same??, does that make sense, i guess wooj is caitlin, idk how to tag this, jisung as the flash, literally cannot think of any way to describe this, seungmins technically cisco, that sounds right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 07:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straysncts/pseuds/straysncts
Summary: “Jisung,” slips from Hyunjin’s lips, a frantic edge to his voice, and he staggers, shocked from hearing his name. They’re close to the edge now, and Jisungscreamsat the sight, a terrible sense of fear filling him up from the inside, leaving him frozen in place.





	there’s no need to rush

**Author's Note:**

> me: u have three wips to finish  
> my brain: Hyunsung Au Where Jisung Is The Flash And Hyunjins Always In The Wrong Place  
> me: but  
> my brain: DO IT
> 
> i swear im gonna update the woobin/seungbin fic (if any of u have read it/are reading it) eventually but this was a nice distraction i dont know why i wanted to write jisung as the flash but here i am accidentally making it 10k when it wasnt supposed to be this long in the first place also yes this is the worlds worst title i used up all of my creativity energy writing this
> 
> also. u can always find me on twitter @ woobinsungs (i got locked out of my other acc sad face) ill link it eventually but its 10:30 n im Tired
> 
> kudos n comments.....always always appreciated n if u really do read this all the way without getting bored/tired/annoyed thank So So So So much

Jisung’s always had this sort of restless energy about him. He was the kid in school that teachers hated, mainly because he could never sit quietly and focus on whatever they were learning.

 _He’s a good kid,_ they would tell his mother. _He just can’t seem to sit still long enough to focus on what’s actually going on._

His classmates had looked at him with annoyance tinging their features whenever he tapped his pencil too loudly, or bounced his knee too high and hit his desk instead, bending over to cradle his leg with his free hand as the people near him sighed.

Unfortunately, he also tended to miss a lot of what his teacher’s were saying. He carried that habit with him, even when he hit high school.

—

Jisung’s sitting through a dreadfully boring lecture in one of his classes, periodically glancing at the clock, almost as if that’ll make time go faster, when he hears a faint buzzing noise. Jisung twitches instinctively, digging through his bag to see if it’s coming from his phone. He can hear the small sigh of annoyance slipping past his teacher’s lips, but Jisung barely registers it over the burst of energy he feels once he sees the contact lighting up across his screen.

“Can I go to the nurse? I’m not feeling well,” Jisung blurts out, already heaving his bag onto his shoulders. His teacher glares daggers at him, but Jisung places a hand across his stomach warningly, mumbling, “I think I’m gonna hurl,” and he’s waved off with another sigh. Jisung fights back a smile as he rushes out of the classroom, mimicking a gag when he notices his teacher still staring at him warily.

He shrugs his backpack on properly as he moves out of view, and he’s gone within seconds. The only thing left remaining of Han Jisung is a crumpled paper of his unfinished Calculus homework.

—

“Seungmin? Can you hear me?” Jisung asks as he runs, zipping past commuters and bicyclists. One of them falls off of their bike out of surprise, and Jisung decides he has enough time to return and upright it, even flashes (God, he needs to stop using that word) the stranger a smile through his mask. He doesn’t dawdle though, for fear of somehow getting recognized. He’d changed into his suit a while back, but the fear still lingers.

Jisung’s so focused on getting to his destination, the one Seungmin has yet to inform him of, that he hasn’t realized he never heard back from him.

“Seungmin?” Jisung repeats, and winces as he’s met with the crackling of static. Jisung groans, deciding to make a detour.

He skids to a stop in the lab, wincing at the loud noise his feet make when he presses into the ground to reduce his speed. He still has yet to learn how to properly slow down.

“Jisung? What are you doing here?” Seungmin gapes at him, his head snapping back to look at the computer screen in front of him. “Comms isn’t working!” Jisung whines, gesturing frantically at his suit.

“Okay, uh, you know where that bakery is? The one that you hate because it smells, and I quote, ‘too sweet’ whenever you go in? Go that way, and make a left at the corner,” Seungmin orders, looking back at the screen worriedly.

Jisung ignores Seungmin’s call of, “ _Please_ stop leaving skid marks on the floor each time you come in here!” as he rushes back out, already making his way back to the street. Distantly, he realizes he’d forgotten to ask for the details, but his comms finally crackles back to life, and Seungmin’s voice carries out into the air.

Jisung lets out a sigh of relief as he speeds (he doesn’t even know how to describe it — it’s like running, but minus the exhaustion) towards his destination.

“You should’ve waited for me to explain,” Seungmin scolds, but there’s no bite to his words. Maybe some annoyance, yes, but nothing more. “Fill me in, please,” Jisung says, skidding at the corner and narrowly avoiding a pedestrian, who jumps in surprise. He snatches her purse out of the air before it even hits the ground, returning it back to her arms safely.

He takes off again, electricity crackling behind him as Seungmin explains what’s going on.

“There’s a report of a metahuman in the street. He’s, uh, terrorizing people. Whoever called 911 wasn’t very specific,” Seungmin sighs through the speaker.

Jisung grunts, then, “Oh, shit. I can see why they weren’t very specific,” as he turns the last corner, putting him face-to-face with a very tall, and large metahuman — large as in towering over Jisung _and_ the nearby building.

Someone nearby screams, and Jisung’s eyes frantically scan his surroundings, searching for anyone in imminent danger, but only finds people running away from the scene, which is relieving. The meta rips out a streetlight in retaliation, slamming it across a parked car.

“Shit, Min. This one has superhuman strength,” Jisung mutters, quietly enough so that he can’t hear. “Hearing too,” The metahuman rasps, now facing him. Jisung groans inwardly, but chooses to stand his ground. “Any chance you’re a speedster as well?” Jisung questions instead, grinning stupidly. The metahuman frowns, and Jisung steels himself for what’s to come.

“I don’t need to be one to beat you,” and with that the meta lunges, ready to crush him, but Jisung, of course, is _faster._ It’s thrilling, putting years of pent-up restlessness to use. Seungmin likes to say that he’s the poster boy of adrenaline junkies everywhere, but for superhero’s instead.

Jisung runs in circles around him, trying to confuse the metahuman, but it only seems to amuse him as he swings his fists repeatedly, hoping one of them lands. Jisung staggers, briefly, when he notices someone rounding the corner, eyes wide at the scene, and the meta takes it as his cue to slam his fist square onto Jisung’s side, pushing him against the nearest building with a painful crack.

His mind goes hazy for a couple of seconds, and he can hear the meta roar as he approaches the bystander instead. Jisung’s hands find purchase in the gravel beneath him, and he ignores the burning on his side in favor of standing up dazedly. A couple of broken ribs, maybe? At least he can breathe, which means his lungs weren’t punctured.

“We aren’t finished!” He calls out weakly, hoping to distract the meta, who glances at him, sparingly, with a look of distaste. “Do you see that? The Flash is _limping,_ ” The meta sneers to the bystander, who seems to be extremely panicked. “I was just heading in for my shift, but I guess they’re closed. Metahuman’s getting in the way and all that. I can come back later?” He squeaks out, cautiously taking a step backwards.

If this wasn’t the World’s Most Terrible Situation, Jisung would’ve laughed.

Instead, he prays his self-healing kicks in soon, and speeds towards the bystander, trying to act as a shield despite the pain raging through his body. The meta appears unbothered, wandering for a weapon. Seungmin’s voice crackles over his speaker, telling him he should just take the bystander and leave to let the cops handle it.

Jisung sucks in a breath, hoping the meta hadn’t heard, and decides to take advantage of the meta’s lack of focus instead. He turns to the boy standing behind him, pointing in the opposite direction, and silently gestures for him to run. The boy shakes his head persistently, and Jisung has to resist the urge to whack him upside the head.

 _It’s like I’m stuck in a shitty Superhero movie,_ Jisung thinks miserably, but he motions for the boy to at least crouch behind the bench nearby, and this time, he listens. The meta stomps his way back just in time, holding a streetlight in his hands yet again.

“Another streetlight? Where’s the originality?” Jisung taunts, hoping to push just the right buttons. “Honestly, it’s the same thing over and over again. I get a call saying there’s a meta attack. I get there, and lo and behold, there’s an angry meta tearing up the place. Give me something new for a change,” Jisung continues, adding a bored sigh for dramatic effect.

The meta yells angrily, and it’s something Jisung cannot decipher, but it makes him grin regardless.

 _Finally_.

The streetlight leaves the meta’s grasp, heading towards Jisung as he continues yelling, but Jisung runs towards it, hopefully fast enough for him to catch it without getting damaged.

He uses the pole to aim for the head, picking up speed all the meanwhile, and is rewarded by the meta slumping backwards onto the street, unconscious. The pole, now crooked and heavy since he isn’t moving any more, slips from his grasp, and he becomes aware of a stabbing pain right across his abdomen as police flood in from all around. He doesn’t remember seeing or hearing them arrive.

“That was so cool!” Someone exclaims, and Jisung whirls around to see the boy standing back up from behind the bench. “ _Cool?_ You could’ve died because you wanted to see this!” Jisung snaps, making sure to speed up his vocal chords to change the sound of his voice. Jisung glares at him, but the boy holds his gaze, squaring his shoulders defiantly.

Jisung hadn’t realized he was shorter than him. Having to look up at the boy to scold him makes the whole ‘getting angry’ part pretty tough. He also didn’t realize that he looks to be around his age, with ashy brown hair that he keeps pushing back with his hand, and warm eyes. Something tugs at Jisung’s brain, a familiar memory, but he can’t seem to reach it.

“You’re hurt,” The boy points out instead, stepping forward and gently pressing a hand against Jisung’s stomach. He can almost hear Woojin nagging at him, explaining that the stomach is actually higher than what most people assume. ( _“People complain about stomachaches and don’t even know where their organs are. Ridiculous,”_ Woojin had told him once, as if it was the worst crime someone could commit).

“Actually, the stomach is higher up. Towards the left here,” Jisung states, shifting the boy’s hand up a little higher, before letting go. He can feel himself blushing under his mask from the realization that the boy is looking at him curiously.

“You’re still injured,” The boy says softly, pouting slightly.

“I’ll heal,” Jisung mutters, finally pushing the boy’s hand away. “Make sure to stay out of trouble. If you were a cat, you’d be down to eight lives,” Jisung remarks stupidly, turning around to try and reach Seungmin over the speaker.

“I got him,” Jisung finally says, hoping it goes through. He stares at the unconscious meta, briefly, before taking off, a trail of electricity fading after him.

—

Jisung misses the rest of his History lecture. He also misses lunch, and his Physics class, but he figures that he’ll make it up eventually.

He goes straight to the lab instead of back to school, mainly because Woojin insisted on checking his vitals, despite Jisung claiming he felt fine.

“See? You’re not fine. You’re wounded,” Woojin points out almost immediately, staring at the dark red stain on Jisung’s suit. “I’ll heal,” Jisung retorts, but limps over to the medical bed they keep in one of the spare rooms. Woojin shakes his head as he hooks him up to an I.V., the specialized one he’d come up with, since Jisung’s cells metabolize at an abnormal rate. Jisung hisses a little when Woojin places the cold electrodes across his chest and head, the ones that measure electrical activity in his brain and heart.

“You should learn how to fight properly,” Woojin mentions out of nowhere, completely decimating Jisung’s pride — not that he’d ever admit it, of course. “I do know how to fight,” Jisung insists stubbornly, but he knows Woojin brings up a fair point. His luck’s going to run out eventually, and then what? Humor and quick wit can’t always save him, not in dangerous situations, at least.

“I know you’re still learning and that your powers are new, but if you wanna do this, you have to put in the effort,” Woojin continues, now carefully cutting open his suit, right where it’s stained with blood.

“You’re so lucky Seungmin can repair and modify your suits,” Woojin mutters, gently touching the wound to assess it. “It’s not that deep, and you didn’t lose that much blood, luckily. Or, maybe you did, and your body’s already starting replacing it. I’m not sure,” Woojin frowns, staring at Jisung, almost as if he has an answer for him.

“I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? If my body cells regenerate at such a rapid pace, it probably applies to my red blood cells too,” Jisung shrugs, looking over at Woojin, who’s now wiping off the blood with a clean towel. “I should start doing RBC counts. Like, how many you naturally have in your body, and how many you have after a fight for comparison. Or, I could talk to Seungmin, see if he can set something up...” Woojin’s voice trails off, and Jisung knows he’s lost him to his own little world of medicine.

—

In his defense, school doesn’t leave a lot of time for Superhero 101, nor is there a manual on how to lead a double life, so Jisung’s usually only able to meet Woojin and Seungmin on the weekends.

They’ve settled on using a wide, flat abandoned road on the outside of the city. Jisung almost always beats them there, but that’s not surprising to anyone.

Woojin hooks him up to a bunch of different instruments when they finally get there, eyes bright and excited as he finally leans back and tells him he’s good to go.

“You are way too excited over this,” Jisung notes, looking down at the various sensors placed throughout his body, in addition to his suit. “You’re like an experiment, a real-life, honest to god, experiment,” Woojin explains, and the spark in his eyes is brighter than ever.

Seungmin looks up from the computer screen, grinning.

 _At least I heal quickly_ , Jisung thinks. He takes a deep breath, and lets out a loud _Whoo-hoo_ as he takes off.

—

“Feeling any better? No hurling, I presume?” Jisung’s teacher asks when he walks in on Monday, and his gaze is a little too stern for Jisung’s liking. “I can’t make any promises,” Jisung mumbles, already heading for his seat to further avoid the conversation.

“Don’t listen to him. I really hope you’re feeling better,” One of his classmates whispers, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure he actually spoke to him. “Sorry, are you talking to me?” He splutters, wondering why in the world _Hwang Hyunjin_ would ever speak to him. Hyunjin runs a hand through his hair, and Jisung’s body goes cold at the gesture.

 _Shit_ , he thinks. He’s seen that gesture before.

“Yeah. I was talking to you,” Hyunjin finally responds, staring at him a little weirdly. Jisung frowns at his realization, but shakes himself out of it, continuing over to his desk. He didn’t recognize him from the meta attack, right? Hyunjin’s never interacted with him before today.

Jisung slumps over his desk, hoping it shields him from Hyunjin’s gaze, who, every now and then, turns around and makes eye contact with him. _Weirdo_ , Jisung thinks. _Am I not allowed to sulk worriedly in peace?_

He’s relieved when the bell rings, and it takes _so_ much self-control to not speed out of there, but he manages to do so without Hyunjin catching up to him. He hightails it to the library, where he knows Seungmin will be for the entirety of lunch.

He makes it there with no signs of Hyunjin coming after him, which is relieving. He spots Seungmin almost right away, and he throws his bag onto the table as he slides into the chair next to him, hissing, “Dude, you won’t believe who talked to me.”

Seungmin pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking up from his work to stare at him.

“This better be good,” He sighs, leaning back in his seat. Jisung waves his arms wildly, as if to reassure him that, yes, it is good, but knocks over Seungmin’s water bottle in process, earning a glare from the latter. Jisung rights it back up, smiling sheepishly.

“So, I walk into class right? And my history teacher’s taunting me because he _totally_ knows I was faking the stomach flu the other day, and I walk towards my seat, and guess who speaks to me?” Jisung rambles, pausing to take a breath.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, waiting. Jisung wishes he could do that, but it doesn’t happen, no matter how much he strains himself trying to.

“Hyunjin! As in, the Hwang Hyunjin,” Jisung finally blurts out, settling for another pause so Seungmin can properly react. He’s rewarded by another eyebrow raise, and the stuttering of pencil on paper. “Wanna know the best part?” Jisung continues, and Seungmin motions for him to go on.

“He’s the guy. From the meta attack. The one that wouldn’t run when I told him to,” Jisung blurts out, and Seungmin’s eyes widen. “Did he recognize you?” He whispers, glancing around to make sure no one’s nearby. “No? Yes? I don’t know. Why else would he tell me he hopes I’m feeling better?” Jisung stutters, rapping his knuckles against the table anxiously.

“That’s what he said? Then he was just being nice, Jisung. Maybe he likes you,” Seungmin muses, his homework now completely forgotten.

“I think he’s onto me. He wouldn’t stop staring,” Jisung insists, crossing his arms stubbornly as he slumps in his seat. Seungmin laughs, shaking his head. “Maybe he wants to be friends,” Seungmin suggests.

Jisung gapes at him, wondering if he’s serious.

“He’s Hyunjin! Everyone loves him, and he hangs out with a completely different group of people. Why would he want to be friends with me, someone who spends their Friday nights at home, and not at parties, or can’t socialize, at all?” Jisung protests, huffing when Seungmin offers him a shrug in response.

“Like I said, he probably just wants to be friends. That, or he likes you,” Seungmin repeats, and there’s a sense of finality in his tone that makes Jisung drop the subject.

—

He’s running out of his English class a couple of days later, clutching his stomach to keep his teacher convinced, when he hears someone say, “Stomach flu? Again?” behind him. Jisung whirls around, and is met with the appearance of Hyunjin, who, by the way, looks very pretty today. Not that Jisung cares enough to notice, of course.

He’s walking towards him now, a look of concern on his face. Jisung doesn’t say anything, just clamps a hand over his mouth as a warning, but Hyunjin is unfazed.

“Hold on. Lemme see if you have a fever. You’re all flushed,” Hyunjin insists, pressing a cool hand against Jisung’s forehead. Jisung insinctively steps away, and Hyunjin’s touch disappears. He pretends to take a deep breathe, and drops his hand, opting to rest it on his stomach instead.

“Chronic nausea,” He blurts out, mentally kicking himself for not leaving fast enough. “Chronic nausea? Is that even a thing?” Hyunjin frowns, but Jisung is quick to nod.

“I’ve had it for a while now. Sucks, but what can you do?” Jisung laughs nervously, checking his phone. Another missed call from Seungmin.

“You shouldn’t worry about me though. Uh, I have to go,” He adds, spinning around to resume his half-run, half-walk down the hall. When he looks back, Hyunjin is gone.

—

Jisung takes out his frustration on the meta, who had annoyingly turned all of 10th street into fucking _Antarctica_ with her newfound powers. Seungmin’s voice crackles into his ear (Will their comms ever be fixed?), telling him he can unthaw the street if he runs fast enough.

“Later,” Jisung promises, eyes meeting the meta’s, whose palms are outstretched. White mist swirls around them, and Jisung’s instincts kick in. He crouches, missing the blast of ice, and retreats in the opposite direction. The farther away he gets from her, the faster he can run back, and the more warmth he generates from the electricity that sparks around him.

Unfortunately for him, the meta catches on and her attacks grow more frequent as a result. Jisung just barely manages to dodge them, despite how fast he’s going. One of them hits the car to his left as he speeds through downtown, and Jisung realizes her aim is getting sloppier. _Good_ , he thinks. Even meta’s have to tire eventually.

He finally comes to a stop near an abandoned building Seungmin had directed him to, and he turns around to face her.

“Speed isn’t gonna help you this time,” She says proudly, like this is some sort of fucking movie, and Jisung eyes the mist slipping from her fingertips warily. He’s not far away enough.

 _Time for a new plan_ , he decides.

Jisung runs directly towards her, just like he previously planned, but he makes a detour, opting to circle around her repeatedly. He can barely hear Seungmin giving him instructions, but he manages to bend his head down far enough to avoid any blasts of snow. Seungmin goes quiet then, and Jisung assumes he’d heard him correctly.

He runs fasts enough to dissipate any ice and snow she throws at him, leaving her distraught. Jisung manages to keep it going until the police show up, which is when he promptly stops, heaving as they handcuff her. The swirls of mist around her disappear as the handcuffs dampen her powers, and she whips her head to glare at him.

 _Ouch_ , he thinks, forcing himself to get back up on his feet. He’s pretty sure he’s reached an all time low, judging from how many circles he just ran around in, as opposed to _actually fighting_.

“Dude, that’s the fastest you’ve ever run,” Seungmin says excitedly, and Jisung manages a weak smile. “It’s not like I had a choice,” He forces out, trying to catch his breath.

“You still have to go back downtown. The street is completely frozen,” Seungmin reminds him, traces of worry slipping through his voice. Jisung straightens up completely now, any signs of exhaustion quickly fading. “I have to run even faster, don’t I?” Jisung asks, even though he knows what the answer’s going to be. “Don’t push yourself,” Woojin chimes in before Seungmin can say anything, but Jisung is barely listening.

He’s already halfway there.

By the time he gets there, some of the ice has started melting, making the street slippery. He stops right before the ice begins, wondering where he should start.

“Another attack?”

Jisung stiffens at the voice behind him, deciding to move to the other end of the street.

“Do you just look for trouble? Is that what this is?” Jisung demands, his vocal chords vibrating fast enough to distort his voice. “I was walking home!” Hyunjin protests, but Jisung doesn’t buy it. Hyunjin looks the same as he did earlier, in the hallway, wearing a loose t-shirt and jeans with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

Jisung forces himself to stop staring.

“Seven lives left, Hyu—” but Jisung automatically cuts himself off, screaming internally at himself.

“I wasn’t even in danger!” Hyunjin complains, apparently not noticing the fact that Jisung had practically said his name, even though he hadn’t introduced himself to The Flash.

“Go home,” Jisung retorts, feeling panic flare up inside of him when Hyunjin takes a step closer to the ice. “Don’t do that!” Jisung says, his panic growing.

“It’s just ice,” Hyunjin says nonchalantly, but he still winces as his foot makes contact, immediately stepping back with a cry of pain.

“You idiot,” Jisung forces out breathlessly, already by his side.

“You’re fast,” Hyunjin observes, smiling despite his predicament. Jisung can see ice clinging to the sole of his shoe.

“You’re ridiculous. Do you know how cold it is there? I can stand it only because I’ve been running, which means my body’s generating heat to keep me warm. You, on the other hand, aren’t like me. No protective suit, or superpowers. Just sheer stupidity,” Jisung scolds, carefully reaching out to examine his leg.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything in response.

“Get up. I’ll take you to a hospital,” Jisung insists, tugging on Hyunjin’s arm.

“My knight in shining armor,” Hyunjin says, almost mockingly, and it’s enough for Jisung to let go of his arm with a look of annoyance.

“Walk to the hospital by yourself then,” Jisung mutters, watching Hyunjin attempt to stand. He gets up eventually, but Jisung can tell he’s shivering.

They stare at each other awkwardly, until Jisung gives in. Seungmin would never let him leave an injured civilian on the street. _That’s not what Superheroes do, Jisung, is what he would tell him._

Maybe he’s right. Plus, he thinks Hyunjin’s sort of cute, but that’s not important.

“Alright. Change of plans. Make sure you hold on tight,” Jisung says resignedly, wrapping an arm around Hyunjin’s waist. He feels strong, steady even, but Jisung pushes the thought out of his mind, taking off once he’s got Hyunjin settled in his arms.

Jisung drops Hyunjin off at the nearest hospital, leaving him with the threat of getting his ass kicked if he keeps getting himself in dangerous situations. He doesn’t wait for a response, choosing to make his way back to the icy street. He focuses on the task on hand instead.

—

Jisung’s slamming his locker shut a couple of days later, only to be met with Hyunjin standing right next to him. Jisung jumps a little, trying not to appear disgruntled by his presence. Hyunjin looks pretty again, hair sweeping over his eyes, and a yellow sweatshirt that gives off all the right kinds of warmth. Jisung blinks, forcing himself not to stare for too long.

“History homework,” Hyunjin explains, waving a packet in his direction. Jisung stares at him blankly, before he realizes he should take it out of Hyunjin’s hands. “I think I got it already, but, uh, thanks? I guess,” Jisung tries to smile as he accepts the packet, and is surprised when Hyunjin smiles back.

“I’m sorry, but why the sudden interest in me?” Jisung blurts out when they fall silent, wincing at how blunt he sounds. Hyunjin shrugs, still smiling at him.

“I just think you’re cute,” Hyunjin finally says, equally as blunt, and Jisung swears he astral projects at the compliment. “You think I’m cute,” Jisung repeats, and he stretches his hand out, begging, “Pinch me. This has to be a dream.”

Hyunjin gives him that funny look again, the one he gave him the other day, but Jisung ignores it.

“Why would it be a dream?” Hyunjin asks, slowly, and Jisung drops his hand to his side, embarrassed.

“Because you’re _you_? And I’m _me_?” Jisung stutters, unsure of how else to word it.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” Hyunjin admits, tilting his head in confusion.

“Never mind,” Jisung breathes, and they both just stand there, staring at one another. Jisung’s oddly reminiscent of the last time he saw Hyunjin.

Jisung snaps out of it at the sound of the bell, glancing around the hallway in a daze.

“What are the chances you get hit with chronic nausea in the middle of history?” Hyunjin asks, and Jisung pretends to thoughtfully consider his answer. “Depends on what we do. If I have to sit through another lecture, the probability of me hurling skyrockets,” Jisung says playfully, and is rewarded with a laugh from Hyunjin.

God, this is so weird. He’s in the hallway. Talking to Hwang Hyunjin and making him laugh. There’s no way he isn’t dreaming right now.

“Here, lemme carry that for you,” Hyunjin offers, reaching out to take Jisung’s history textbook, and his homework as they walk. Jisung’s mouth falls open, but he follows the boy regardless. “I can carry my books,” Jisung insists, but Hyunjin pays him no attention. Jisung tries to ignore the way people stare.

Hwang Hyunjin. He’s walking down the hallway with _Hwang_ _Hyunjin_. They haven’t spoken to each other since the 6th grade, when Hyunjin asked him if he had a pencil to borrow, and all Jisung could find in his bag was one with small, pink hearts all over it. Not his proudest moment, but Hyunjin had accepted it with a mumbled, “Cool pencil,” under his breath.

Jisung had been the biggest dork back then, and yeah, he’s still one now, but Hyunjin isn’t. Hyunjin is smooth edges and steadiness, all the right combinations of perfect.

He’s always felt so unreachable, but here they are, walking to class together, as if they haven’t existed in separate dimensions for all of high school.

He kind of likes it.

Jisung’s cheeks flush at his thoughts, and he realizes Hyunjin is staring at him. Jisung jerks his eyes away, relieved by the sight of their classroom door.

Hyunjin, bless his heart, holds it open for him with a smile, and Jisung enters, desperate to get to his seat. Hyunjin follows him, gently placing the books on his desk. He hovers for a brief second, almost as if he wants to say something, but decides against it. Jisung watches him go.

His phone is silent for the entirety of class.

—

“Hyung, please tell me you’re here!” Jisung calls out as he comes to a stop, eyes searching the open space. Seungmin is nowhere to be seen, but Jisung had hoped Woojin was still around. “I’ll be right out,” comes the muffled response from Woojin, who appears a few seconds later. Jisung rocks back and forth on his heels, unsure of what to say.

“Is this about Hyunjin?” Woojin questions, breaking the silence. He’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed as he stares expectantly at Jisung, whose shoved his head in his hands. Seungmin must’ve told him already. He takes a deep breath, before meeting Woojin’s eyes again.

“Yeah. It is,” Jisung admits wearily. Woojin looks at him thoughtfully, moving to slip off his lab coat, the same one Jisung used to endlessly tease him about, right up until the first time he saved his life.

“Come on. Lets get something sweet to eat,” Woojin suggests. Jisung holds his hands out, in case Woojin wants to speed over there, but the latter shakes his head. “The last time I let you do that, I threw up. No, we’ll walk this time,” Woojin insists, holding out his arm. Jisung loops his arm through his, and they make their way outside.

“Do you like him?”

The question cuts through Jisung sharply, knocking the air out of his lungs, and he struggles to regain his breathing. Woojin doesn’t force him to speak, just lets him ponder his answer, and he’s grateful.

“I’m not sure,” Jisung finally responds, right as they’re walking into the bakery, the one Jisung had complained about to Seungmin. Woojin untangles their arms, waving him off to order as he searches for a table. Jisung opens his mouth to protest, but Woojin’s already made himself comfortable in a chair, so he has no choice but to approach the counter.

The worker there has his back to Jisung, since he’s cleaning the counter, so he stands there awkwardly, waiting for him to finish. His hair is about the same shade as Hyunjin’s, and Jisung’s heart slams into his rib cage at the realization, hurriedly glancing back at Woojin, who just smiles knowingly at him.

“Hi! How can I help you tod—Oh, hi Jisung!” Hyunjin exclaims, resting his elbows on the countertop and leaning towards him. Jisung swallows nervously, trying not to think about how he manages to make a stupid work uniform look good. It’s not working.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Jisung admits, tips of his ears burning as Hyunjin laughs sweetly. God. This is terrible. Hyunjin is so pretty.

“I have for a while now. It’s nice,” Hyunjin responds, and Jisung feels dizzy from their short interaction. “Right. Uh, can I get some hot chocolate? Two, please. And two muffins?” Jisung asks, switching the subject. Jisung searches for his wallet, but Hyunjin motions for him to stop.

“On the house,” He explains, and Jisung feels as if his world has been titled off of its axis.

“On the house,” He repeats, feeling dazed. “You’re _so_ sweet, Hwang Hyunjin,” He sighs, trying to smile.

Hyunjin smiles back, moving to prepare his order, and Jisung whirls around to make eye contact with Woojin, furiously tilting his head in Hyunjin’s direction in hopes that he gets the message. Woojin stares at him innocently, as if he has no idea what’s happening. Asshole, he thinks.

His face quickly turns into one of panic a couple of seconds later, and Jisung turns to see what he’s staring at.

Hyunjin’s holding Jisung’s order, except he isn’t behind the counter anymore, and Jisung is almost crushed when he notices the way Hyunjin stares at Woojin.

“ _Oh_.”

Hyunjin’s voice is painfully small, in the kind of way that makes Jisung’s heart ache.

“Let me bring you guys your order,” Hyunjin finally says, breaking the long stretch of silence. He drops his gaze from Jisung’s as he walks over to the table Woojin’s sitting at. He leaves before Woojin or Jisung can say anything, slipping behind the counter and disappearing into the back room.

Jisung looks at Woojin hopelessly, trudging over to his seat.

“If you feel as bad as you look, then I think it’s safe to say that you like him back,” Woojin comments softly, but Jisung’s mind is elsewhere.

They sit in silence for what seems like ages. Hyunjin doesn’t reappear again.

—

Jisung, unfortunately, doesn’t sleep much that night.

He circles the city approximately 11 times, trying to get everything out of his system. He gives up after the 11th time, finally collapsing on a park bench. Not the most ideal spot for him since it’s _so_ public, but there’s no one around right now, so he doesn’t think too much of it.

His mind is a complete and utter mess, and he keeps going back to what happened earlier repeatedly, wondering if Woojin was right.

The thing is that everyone likes Hyunjin. It’s a given, something that’s natural.

Jisung hasn’t interacted with him much throughout high school, but they’ve been friendly in whatever classes they shared in the past. They never went farther than a few small smiles, not until recently, which brings Jisung to his current predicament.

He can’t stop thinking about the way Hyunjin had looked at Woojin, as if he’d come to a realization, one that Jisung wishes he hadn’t.

Jisung doesn’t know how long he sits there for, staring into space.

—

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything to Jisung for the entirety of the next couple of days, leaving him restless. Each time he approaches him, Hyunjin deftly avoids the situation, leaving Jisung feeling like the worst person ever.

He’s staring at the back of Hyunjin’s head in History when he hears his phone start buzzing, and Jisung groans internally, not knowing what kind of excuse he can make up this time. As if aware that Jisung’s about to have a bout of made up nausea, Hyunjin turns his head, making eye contact with him for the first time that week. Jisung swallows nervously, unsure of what to do.

Hyunjin looks away first, and Jisung snaps out of it, blurting out that he has a doctor’s appointment to go to. His teacher is annoyed by his poor excuse, but Jisung runs out anyways.

What he doesn’t count on is Hyunjin following him into the hallway, bathroom pass in hand.

“So this time it’s a doctor’s appointment,” Hyunjin says. His words echo throughout the hallway, bouncing off of the walls, and Jisung’s phone buzzes impatiently. He can’t do this right now.

“What, now you wanna talk to me? After avoiding me all week?” Jisung snaps, and is rewarded with Hyunjin flinching at his words. A sense of guilt floods him immediately, and he reprimands himself for being so harsh.

“Sorry. That wasn’t fair of me,” Jisung apologizes, wanting nothing more than to die on the spot.

“You’re gonna be late,” Hyunjin finally responds, albeit quietly, and Jisung realizes he’s moved back to the classroom door already, his hand twisting the knob. “Yeah. I am,” Jisung says, his voice rough. Hyunjin stares at him, almost as if he’s going to say something else, but the door twists open and he’s gone with a click.

Jisung breathes out a sigh of relief, and he’s gone too.

—

He’s extra busy that day, almost getting charred to death by a Metahuman, only for Seungmin to inform him of another attack on the other side of the city almost right after he finishes.

Jisung spends the day speeding back and forth, trying to prevent as much damage as possible. He’s bone exhausted by the time the sun sinks below the horizon, but Seungmin saying, “Good job,” with all of the proudness Jisung’s ever wanted, alleviates some of his fatigue.

—

Jisung really doesn’t expect Hyunjin to ever speak to him again. In fact, he spends most of History debating on whether or not to approach him instead, eyes flickering over to where Hyunjin’s sitting whenever he isn’t looking.

Jisung’s stomach is in shambles by the time the bell signals the end of class, and he feels rooted to his seat, watching everyone else leave. Hyunjin shifts in his own seat, and Jisung’s brain must short-circuit because suddenly Hyunjin’s standing in front of him, asking if they can talk. Jisung’s tongue has turned into a useless ball of cotton, and his palms are so sweaty that wiping them on his jeans doesn’t work, but he manages to shake his head yes regardless.

Jisung grabs hold of Hyunjin’s arm as they leave the classroom, forcing him to stop walking.

“Hey. I’m really sorry,” Jisung apologizes, letting his arm fall back to his side. Hyunjin glances at him, but doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t like Woojin-hyung. Not in that way,” Jisung admits, in the middle of the crowded hallway. He feels anxious, as if they shouldn’t be having this conversation here.

“Woojin-hyung? That’s the guy you were with?” Hyunjin asks slowly, and Jisung nods warily.

“Oh. I thought, uh,” Hyunjin mumbles, twiddling with his fingers, before continuing, “I didn’t realize. When you came in and ordered for two by yourself, I figured—”

“That it was for us. _Fuck_ , Hyunjin,” Jisung finishes, trying to ignore the pool of guilt settling inside of him. “It’s my fault. For assuming that you liked me back, that you would even want to see me,” Hyunjin blurts out, and Jisung viscerally feels his brain short circuit at his words.

“Say that again.”

“What? That it’s my fault?” Hyunjin frowns, taking a step back. Jisung takes a step closer to make up for the distance lost, shaking his head. “The next part,” He insists.

Hyunjin stares at him inquisitively, struggling to remember what he said.

“Oh. You mean the _liking_ _you_ part,” Hyunjin breathes, and Jisung’s face grows warm from hearing it again.

“You like me,” Jisung says stupidly, unable to keep the smile off of his face. Hyunjin’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and Jisung swears he’s come in contact with an angel.

“I like you,” Hyunjin confirms, and Jisung’s smile only grows. His response is interrupted by the bell ringing, snapping both of them out of it.

“Shit,” Jisung curses, glancing down the hall worriedly. “We’ll continue this later,” Jisung promises, rushing down the hall once Hyunjin nods in agreement.

—

Jisung doesn’t see Hyunjin for the rest of the day, so he decides to take his chances by going into the bakery again. The bell chimes as he walks in, and Hyunjin turns to greet him, smiling once he realizes it’s Jisung.

“Hi,” Jisung blurts out, and Hyunjin walks out from behind the counter, gesturing for him to sit at one of the empty tables. Hyunjin joins in, fingers tapping nervously against the wooden surface.

“I tried looking for you, but I didn’t see you anywhere, so this was my best shot,” Jisung confesses, tugging on the sleeves of his sweater to distract himself.

Neither of them say anything for a couple of seconds, Jisung trying to work up the courage to do so. Hyunjin clears his throat awkwardly, and Jisung’s thinking _fuck_ _it_ when he admits, “I like you too,” out of nowhere.

Hyunjin’s fingers stop moving and his expression wavers, and Jisung’s heart plummets as he waits for a response.

“Please say something,” He pleads, unable to stand the silence.

“Sorry. I’m just surprised. I was expecting rejection,” Hyunjin admits, shyly looking away, and Jisung wonders if it’s possible for his heart to burst straight out of his chest. “I don’t know where we go from here either,” He adds, and Jisung notices that he can’t stop fidgeting.

“Let me take you on a date,” Jisung proposes, and that’s how it begins.

—

“You can barely handle school and your top-secret, undercover superhero agenda. Can you juggle a love life at the same time?” Seungmin asks, obviously concerned, if Jisung squints hard enough to read past everything, that is. Woojin hums in agreement, flopping down into one of the chairs next to Seungmin.

“I can!” Jisung insists stubbornly, but he’s pacing through their work space, right in front of the computers. He barely notices the way Seungmin and Woojin share a glance, too busy debating on whether or not he really can handle this.

He hates Seungmin for being his voice of reason, but he brings up a fair point. Hyunjin obviously hadn’t played into any of his excuses, and he’s surely going to have questions, the kind that Jisung won’t be able to answer.

For a brief, crazy, moment, Jisung considers telling him. Woojin’s staring at him quizzically, almost as if he can read his mind. Seungmin eyes dart between the both of them, and he shoots up from his chair, protesting, “You can’t!” and subsequently startling Jisung.

“Can’t what?” Jisung retorts, feigning ignorance in the hope that Seungmin hadn’t actually caught on.

“Tell him,” Seungmin says smugly, as if he knows that he’s spot on. Jisung sighs, facade crumbling, but he’s right.

“I mean, even if you did tell him, he wouldn’t be able to prove it to anyone,” Woojin points out, and Seungmin gapes at him, hissing, “You’re supposed to be the rational one!” under his breath, which, by the way, is useless considering Jisung is in front of them, and can hear their every word.

“No, Seungmin’s right. I don’t think I should say anything,” Jisung finally says, frowning. Seungmin breathes a sigh of relief, slumping back down in his chair. Woojin, however, leans forward, giving him a sympathetic look.

“It’s your decision to make,” He says softly, and Jisung’s reminded of just how much he appreciates him.

“I know. I just think it’s best if he doesn’t know. For now, at least,” Jisung says quietly. He’s stopped pacing now. Woojin looks at him thoughtfully, but doesn’t say anything else in response.

—

Their first date is the embodiment of awkwardness. Jisung trips over his words when Hyunjin stops by his house, and he almost falls flat on his face while they’re walking together, but Hyunjin doesn’t tease him for it.

“Sorry. I’m not good at this,” Jisung apologizes, breaking the silence. Hyunjin looks at him sheepishly, before admitting, “Neither am I,” quietly.

“Hwang Hyunjin? Not good at something?” Jisung feigns surprise, his face morphing into one of surprise, and Hyunjin laughs, nudging him gently out of protest. Jisung feels a spark of electricity run up his arm from the contact, and he feels the same way he does when he’s The Flash.

“There are lots of things I can’t do,” Hyunjin insists, but Jisung doesn’t buy it.

“You’re _Hyunjin_! Pretty, smart, funny, kind, Hyunjin. There’s nothing you can’t do,” Jisung splutters, blushing when he sees Hyunjin raise an eyebrow.

“I didn’t realize you were so invested in me,” Hyunjin muses, and Jisung realizes he can’t worm his way out of this one.

“I mean, you’re pretty, uh, well known. People always talk about you,” Jisung mutters lamely, hoping he hadn’t come off as weird or creepy. Hyunjin’s face sours at his words, and Jisung is quick to explain that he only hears good things about him, but Hyunjin says nothing in response.

They walk without speaking right up until they get to the restaurant and Hyunjin finally breaks the silence, talking about how Jisung’s going to love the food here. Jisung manages a smile as they walk inside, hoping it goes well.

—

Hyunjin drops him off with a kiss on the cheek after dinner, one that leaves Jisung a blushing, stuttering mess under the dim lighting of his porch. He briefly wonders if his parents are asleep by now, and hopes that they are to save himself some embarrassment.

“I had a good time,” Hyunjin whispers. They’re standing really close to each other, close enough that Jisung can tell Hyunjin smells like a peculiar mix of vanilla and the Earth after a fresh rainfall, but it’s so _fitting_. “I had a good time too,” Jisung squeaks out, clearing his throat.

“We should do it again,” Jisung blurts out before Hyunjin can say anything else, watching the way his shoulders slump with relief. “I was really hoping you’d say that,” Hyunjin admits, his smile bright despite the lack of lighting.

Hyunjin turns to leave, but Jisung’s hand moves before he can even think about it, stopping him.

“Can I kiss you?” Jisung asks, trying not to sound too hopeful. Hyunjin’s silent for a painful second, and Jisung’s never been happier to hear someone say yes.

He brings himself up to his tippy toes, latching his arms around Hyunjin’s neck as he presses their lips together gently.

 _God_ , _I_ _really_ _like_ _this_ _boy_ , Jisung thinks as they break apart. He can make out the blush on Hyunjin’s cheeks if he concentrates hard enough.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Jisung whispers dumbly, as if anyone’s around to hear them. Hyunjin’s eyes grow warm as he smiles at him, whispering, “Me neither,” back at him.

—

Jisung doesn’t see Hyunjin until Monday, when he’s walking down the hall with Seungmin. Hyunjin glances up from whatever conversation his group of friends are having, smiling when notices him looking.

Seungmin stares at the both of them, mumbling, “I’m just gonna stop by my locker real quick,” to him, leaving Jisung standing stupidly in the middle of the hallway. Hyunjin’s still smiling at him as Jisung finally decides to walk over.

Hyunjin tugs on his elbow so they’re farther away from his friends, admitting, “I missed you,” quietly. Jisung’s heart hammers loudly in his chest, so loudly that he thinks Hyunjin can hear it, even though he knows that’s not possible. Jisung snaps out of it, just now noticing that Hyunjin looks crestfallen, probably because he has yet to say anything in response.

“I missed you too,” Jisung says back, softly, and watches the way Hyunjin’s face lights up as he admits it. Jisung doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of seeing Hyunjin smile.

Hyunjin moves closer, grabbing hold of Jisung’s hand. He plays with his fingers, smiling all the meanwhile, and Jisung tries to ignore the storm of butterflies wreaking havoc inside of him.

“The bell’s gonna ring soon,” Jisung points out, because he has nothing else to say, which is unlike him. He always has something to say, but his mind is simply blank today.

“I’ll walk you there,” Hyunjin says, now fully entwining their fingers together. Jisung glances down at the sight, giddiness erupting inside of him. He clears his throat awkwardly, trying to keep it together as they walk.

“Did you do the history homework?” Hyunjin questions, and Jisung’s relieved to have a distraction. “Well you see, the thing about history is that I can’t stand it, so I always wait last minute to do it,” Jisung says, having already planned to spend his break doing so. Seungmin always nag at him for procrastinating, but Jisung steadfastly justifies it by saying approaching deadlines motivate him further.

Hyunjin, however, laughs.

“That’s such a _you_ thing,” He remarks, glancing over at him. Jisung smiles sheepishly, but doesn’t deny it.

“Seungmin always nags at me for waiting to do my homework, but I never listen,” Jisung admits, laughing a little. Hyunjin frowns, asking, “Seungmin? Is that who you were with this morning?” and Jisung bobs his head in confirmation. He’s about to ask why when they reach the classroom door, and Hyunjin drops his hand in favor of holding the door open.

God, this is so weird. _Good_ weird. Jisung thinks he might melt into a puddle of goo if Hyunjin smiles at him like that one more time.

He can barely focus on the lecture, even less than usual. His eyes keep wandering over to Hyunjin, who, by the way, is a much better student than he is. Jisung’s slightly impressed.

He silently thanks whatever meta’s are lurking out there for choosing to not make an appearance today.

—

The more dates they go on, the more natural everything feels.

Being with Hyunjin is like breathing; Jisung doesn’t even have to think about it, doesn’t have to think about his answer when Hyunjin’s standing outside of his front door, asking if he’ll be his boyfriend.

It’s just so _easy_.

—

Jisung should’ve known.

He should’ve known that he’s not allowed to be happy for long, and all he can think about as he runs is Hyunjin’s face when he told him he had to go, right in the middle of their date.

Seungmin’s voice is pitying as he stops by to put on his suit, but Jisung has nothing to say. He’s gone within a second, already making his way to the meta.

When he returns, their workspace is downright gloomy. Seungmin glances at him apprehensively, clearly debating on whether or not he should say anything. Jisung makes himself comfortable on their hospital bed, and silently lets Woojin patch him up, as well as go over his vitals.

Woojin doesn’t say anything either, not until he’s done and Jisung’s sitting up, ready to leave before anyone can speak. Woojin grasps his arm, anchoring him back down.

“It’s not your fault,” He says quietly, reading Jisung’s face.

Jisung pulls his arm back, voice hoarse as he says, “It _is_ my fault. I shouldn’t have assumed I can handle it. He’s gonna hate me.” Woojin winces at his words, but is silent.

Jisung stands up, this time successfully, mumbling something about going home to sleep. It’s a lie, of course, but no one tries to stop him.

—

Jisung passes it off as his mom needing him at home when he sees Hyunjin at school the next day, trying to ignore the guilt scratching at his insides. Hyunjin eyes him warily, but he relaxes eventually, telling him not to worry about it.

Jisung swallows back his tears from having to lie, but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to notice.

—

He comes home to the noise of their television blaring, and his mom asking if he’d heard about what happened earlier that day. Jisung shakes his head no, glancing over at the screen.

Seungmin didn’t call me, he thinks. He didn’t tell him that there was an attack, and for a split second, he wonders if maybe something had happened to him, but that doesn’t make sense. Someone, _anyone_ , would’ve told him. He would know, which means Seungmin purposefully didn’t tell him.

“I’m going to Seungmin’s to study, mom!” He calls out, runnning up the stairs to drop his backpack down in his room. His mom yells something about coming back before 10, and he’s gone. He instinctively goes to their lab, knowing that Seungmin spends most of his free time there.

He tries to control his breathing as he zips past cars and pedestrians, gritting his teeth. Seungmin didn’t tell him. He should’ve told him.

Jisung’s gasping for breath when he gets there. He’s usually able to keep himself in check, but he’d forgotten to do so this time. Seungmin glances up from the computer, mouth open, but Jisung shoots him a look, one that has him shutting his mouth closed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jisung forces out, and Woojin chooses that moment to enter, still wearing his lab coat. Jisung doesn’t say hi, opting to wait for Seungmin to answer instead.

“I told him not to,” Woojin says, and the look on his face makes Jisung shrink away, the storm of emotions inside him slowly dissipating.

“Someone could’ve gotten hurt,” Jisung says flatly, slumping into one of the empty chairs.

“The police handled it just fine,” Woojin points out, and Jisung’s face contorts.

“You already lied to Hyunjin once. Besides, it happened around lunchtime, and I assumed you guys were together then. I didn’t want to put you in that position again,” Woojin continues, taking a seat next to Jisung. He reaches out, surely to comfort him, but Jisung recoils from his touch.

“ _Jisung_.” Woojin’s voice is insistent, and he has no choice but to meet his eyes. He finds nothing but kindness in them, as always, but it doesn’t make him feel much better.

“You can’t always save the world,” He says softly. Jisung wants to protest, tell him that he’s wrong, but he can’t. He can’t, and he hates it, because Woojin’s right.

“It’s not just that. I mean, you should be able to go on dates and spend time with Hyunjin. I know you chose this, but you don’t need to give up everything you’ve ever known,” Woojin adds, and Seungmin hums, nodding in agreement.

“I know, but...” Jisung’s voice trails off, and he realizes he has nothing else to say in response. Woojin smiles sympathetically, leaning over to run a hand through Jisung’s hair affectionately, who doesn’t shy away from his touch this time.

Jisung manages to match Woojin’s smile.

—

Jisung almost loses his composure when he arrives to the site of another meta attack and finds Hyunjin there instead.

“Why are you here? Where’s the meta?” Jisung questions, voice distorted as he scans the street warily, which is unusually empty. “I don’t know, I mean, one second he was here and now he’s not, and, well, I’m pretty fucking scared, Flash,” Hyunjin rambles, and Jisung notices the way his eyes flicker up and down the road. He doesn’t understand why Hyunjin didn’t just run away.

Why is he still here? 

“I wasn’t looking for danger, you know. I was just walking home from my shift,” Hyunjin adds hastily, wringing his hands together. Jisung’s response is cut off by the appearance of the meta, who, quite literally, materializes out of thin air in front of the both of them. 

“This one can teleport,” Seungmin warns, a beat too late through their speaker, but Jisung doesn’t say anything in response. 

“Hyunjin, get behind me,” Jisung instructs, trying to shake off any uneasiness as he motions with his hand. The meta seems to be sizing them up, so Jisung’s trying to figure out how to stall for time. Nothing comes to mind as the meta materializes in front of Hyunjin, and Jisung’s thinking _I should’ve just gotten him out of here first_ when the meta grabs him, and suddenly Jisung’s _lunging_ , but he’s not fast enough because they both disappear, reappearing farther down the street.

Jisung follows, but the meta’s already gone by the time he’s there, Hyunjin just barely out of reach. He’s not fast enough — _I never will be_ , he realizes grimly — and the thought almost makes him give up. 

He doesn’t know how or when they end up on top of a building, but they’re all standing there some moments later, and Jisung can’t _breathe_ , almost as if the overwhelming feeling of panic has pushed all of the air out of his lungs. The meta keeps teleporting throughout the roof, taking Hyunjin with him as Jisung spins in circles, trying to keep track of them, but they’re getting faster and faster, and Jisung is just getting _slower_. His body is screaming at him, and he can feel exhaustion settling in way earlier than it should be. Something’s wrong. 

“ _Jisung_ ,” slips from Hyunjin’s lips, a frantic edge to his voice, and he staggers, shocked from hearing his name. They’re close to the edge now, and Jisung _screams_ at the sight, a terrible sense of fear filling him up from the inside, leaving him frozen in place. 

He wakes up gasping for air, a chill racking his body. Jisung doesn’t know how much time passes before his hands stop shaking, and his heart finally slows down to a reasonable rhythm. He forces himself to sit up, and realizes that he had been crying. His cheeks are damp, and he furiously wipes at them, trying to stop any more tears from escaping. 

He looks around his room, searching for his phone, and calls the first person that comes to mind. 

“Jisung?” Hyunjin’s voice is groggy, from sleep, presumably, and Jisung is a strange mix of relieved and guilt-ridden when he hears him speak into the phone. 

“I woke you up didn’t I? I’m sorry,” Jisung apologizes quietly, and he hears rustling from Hyunjin, who’s probably moving around. 

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, and he sounds more alert. 

“Just a bad dream,” He mumbles, his hand smoothing out the sheets underneath him as a distraction. 

“Hold on. Let me call you again,” Hyunjin says, and Jisung is confused up until his contact flashes across his phone screen, noticing that it’s a FaceTime call instead. Jisung accepts it as he lays back down, and is met with the appearance of a sleepy Hyunjin, who whispers, “Hi,” and smiles at him. 

Jisung smiles back. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, or do you wanna fall asleep together?” Hyunjin asks, face pressed against his pillow now. Jisung thinks it’s cute, but he tries his best to push the thought away. Hyunjin must notice him staring because he says, “Don’t mind the puffiness,” jokingly and it’s _so_ endearing. 

“Can we just fall asleep together? I don’t feel like talking about it right now,” Jisung admits, and he’s more than relieved when Hyunjin agrees without pressing the issue. Hyunjin starts some small talk, his voice soft and reassuring. Having something to focus on, even if it’s just Hyunjin recounting his day, makes Jisung feel so much more grounded. 

Jisung doesn’t remember when he falls asleep, but when he wakes up, the call is still going. He laughs softly, and Hyunjin stirs from the noise. He clamps a hand over his mouth, hoping he hadn’t woken him up, but Hyunjin’s blinking lazily at him, smiling.

“G’morning,” He mumbles through a yawn, and Jisung finds himself smiling affectionately.

“Good morning to you too! Who knew you looked so cute in the morning?” Jisung chirps, laughing at the way Hyunjin scrunches his nose in distaste.

Today’s going to be a good day.

—

He visits Woojin before school, wanting to run his idea past him before he does anything. Woojin gives him a curious look, almost as if he knew Jisung would do this, but gives his consent. Jisung smiles, squishing him into a hug as he leaves to search for Seungmin.

Seungmin, however, is the opposite. He dissents immediately, but hesitates when Jisung brings up Woojin. He caves eventually, leaving Jisung oddly excited and restless.

Hyunjin meets him at his locker after school. Jisung’s hands are all clammy from his nerves, and he can’t tell if he’s shaking from the cold or from the prospect of doing what he’s about to do.

“This isn’t anything serious, is it? Because you’re shaking,” Hyunjin says, a look of concern on his face. He holds out his hands, asking, “Can I?” and envelopes Jisung’s with his own once he nods. “It’s kinda serious? You’ll see what I mean soon,” Jisung reassures. He pulls his hands away to close his locker shut, before tugging Hyunjin down the hall with him.

“If you couldn’t tell, I _really_ like you. I was gonna see if I could get away with not telling you, but I realized that wouldn’t be fair to you, so, if you’re just as serious about us dating as I am, let me show you what I’m talking about,” Jisung says firmly, risking a glance over at Hyunjin, who, unsurprisingly, appears confused.

He’s silent, obviously trying to figure out what Jisung means. He’s silent long enough for Jisung to doubt his idea, wondering if it would’ve been better for him to keep his mouth shut, but Hyunjin nods eventually. 

__

Jisung relaxes. pulling Hyunjin along with him so they get there faster.

__

“I don’t understand why we’re here,” Hyunjin whispers as they walk down the hallway, the one that leads into the room where Seungmin and Woojin are. “Also, isn’t this, like, illegal? Especially considering the fact that the particle accelerator explosion occurred here?” Hyunjin adds, glancing around him warily. Jisung just grins, picking up the pace.

__

When the hallway opens up into another room, the one where Jisung spends most of his time, Hyunjin’s eyes go wide.

__

“Jisung, What is this?” He asks, a little breathless, as he looks around. Jisung nervously rocks back and forth on his heels, unsure of how to answer. Hyunjin’s eyes land on his spare suit, the one Seungmin insisted on making after he ripped his old one, and Jisung hears him let out an almost imperceptible, “Oh,” at the sight.

__

Both Woojin and Seungmin look over at Jisung, who shrugs. He has no idea what Hyunjin’s going to say, or do.

__

“This makes so much sense. You almost said my name that day, didn’t you? I thought I was imagining things,” Hyunjin admits, and Jisung grimaces.

__

“Yeah. I almost did,” He agrees, waiting for Hyunjin to continue. He’s still staring at the room, glancing at the room filled with medical supplies, before scanning Seungmin’s fancy tech equipment.

__

“So you’re The Flash,” Hyunjin remarks, and Jisung wonders if he’s imagining the slight awe in his voice. Jisung makes his way around the room using his speed, ending up in front of Hyunjin.

__

“Don’t mind him. He’s just showing off,” Seungmin calls out, and Jisung’s relieved to see Hyunjin smile a little.

__

“You’re Seungmin, right? You help him?” Hyunjin questions, and Seungmin bobs his head as a confirmation. “And I’m Woojin. I’m the closest he has to a doctor who understands this kinda stuff,” Woojin adds, smiling kindly.

__

Hyunjin spins to face Jisung, admitting, “This is a lot to take in.”

__

“It is,” Jisung agrees.

__

They’re both silent for a couple of seconds.

__

“I think I can handle it,” Hyunjin finally declares, and Jisung rushes forward, arms looping around Hyunjin’s neck as he asks, “Really?” as if making sure he’d heard correctly.

__

Hyunjin nods, and Jisung can’t wipe the smile off of his face.

__

He kisses him, right in the middle of the lab, and Jisung feels like he’s starting a new chapter.

__

**Author's Note:**

> i know the endings kinda vague but also if i developed this more it wouldve been so long n this already turned out longer than planned so please bear with me T______T


End file.
